


The Desexing of Dorian Pavus

by FlitShadowflame



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Dorian Pavus Has Self-Esteem Issues, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, ableism maybe?, but it's all tevinter's fault, punitive castration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6018169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another kink meme fill, for the following prompt:</p><p>"Omega!Dorian's promiscuity is an embarrassment to the family and is ruining his chances for marriage. There's really only one solution: castration. After all, omegas don't need their cocks to breed. Castrating omegas isn't exactly uncommon in Tevinter, but Dorian never thought his father would do it to him. But he does, and afterwards Dorian flees to the south.</p><p>"He joins up with the Inquisition and begins to develop feelings for his LI. But he's terrified of acting on them. He doesn't know what sex will be like for him now without his cock, whether he can still enjoy it, and if he doesn't would his LI break up with him if Dorian refuses to sleep with him?"</p><p>I sorta put the cart before the horse a bit, but hopefully OP still wants to read this...eight months after I said I'd fill it...*headdesks*.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desexing of Dorian Pavus

Dorian had always prided himself on having the good sense not to fall in love. It turned out he was just exposed to the wrong sort of people his whole life, unlovable people who were only concerned with themselves and their own goals, their own pleasure. He had been one of them, he knew that. Tevinter would do that to a person.

The South was...different. In many ways, some less important than others, but perhaps the one most relevant to him was that if people treated him nicely here, he knew they genuinely liked him. He was too much of a social pariah for the ambitious to flatter, or for the servile to even notice. It was a little refreshing, at first, to be harassed by Chantry Mothers instead of engaged in pointless conversation by near-strangers who just wanted to say they'd spoken to an Altus that day.

He got tired of the haranguing quite quickly, but the sincerity of those few genuine friends he'd made never bored him. Varric with his stories, Sera with her pranks, Bull and his flirting, Vivienne and her sniping, even Blackwall's disgruntled complaints about spoiled noble brats: he learned soon enough that they might complain and tease but they would not allow him to be insulted by anyone else, and they were always there when he needed them. Cole was even there when Dorian had done his level best not to need anyone at all. He drew Cullen into chess games that sometimes turned into religious debates, but never turned to the question of mages requiring or deserving imprisonment, nor of the utility or lack of the same of the Templar Order. Sometimes they skirted close, with comments about how utterly incompetent Northern Templars were, but that was all.

Even Solas, for all his snide remarks and dismissive responses to what Dorian thought were quite legitimate questions, even he refused to allow Dorian's abilities and value to the Inquisition be questioned. Cassandra had bonded with him over a distaste for the duplicity of noble life, and Josephine had been thrilled whenever Dorian shared what foreign candies Mae deigned to send. Leliana distrusted everyone, naturally, but she appreciated Dorian as one of very few resources on Tevene in Skyhold, a crucial role when the Venatori were still such a threat. And they occasionally discussed fashion as only true followers of the art could, and he was promised intimate involvement in the design of any formalwear the Inquisition might require.

He had _friends_ here. Odd ones, true, but genuine friends nonetheless.

He was surprised to find this made him more reluctant, not less, to share what he had suffered. But he supposed he should have known - he hadn't been able to tell Felix, after all, and Felix really was the truest friend he'd ever had.

More surprising still, he found himself sexually interested in Alphas for the first time in his life.

It started with Cullen - sweet, gentle Cullen who was so easy to fluster and so thoroughly opposite everything Dorian expected from an Alpha. At least, when he was not in command of his troops. Then it was clear who was in charge, and it was breathtaking to watch the change in Cullen's posture, the timbre of his voice...

Dorian flirted, but Cullen was just as sweet and gentle in turning him down as he was in everything else, and Dorian was able to let him go, with a little pining and continued friendly flirtation.

Then it was Blackwall, filthy and smelly as he was. He saved Dorian's life a few times and didn't seem to expect Dorian to suck his cock for it, and regrettably that was more than enough to interest Dorian in a man. Blackwall, however, was clearly pining for Josephine, and Dorian gave him up without falling too far.

Varric was a dwarf, not an Alpha, but that _chest_ hair, Maker...Dorian reminded himself that Varric had an arrangement of some sort with Bianca-the-dwarf, and did little more than stare longingly now and then.

Of course, there was also the Iron Bull. A massive Qunari with muscles on top of muscles, and scars on top of those. He was missing one eye and several fingers, and maybe a few other things, but it didn't make him look like a horror, and that gave Dorian a kind of security about his looks, his body, that he'd not felt since...before he left Tevinter. Bull looked like a gladiator aging out of the sport rather than departing via pyre, and that was immeasurably sexy to Dorian's stupid Omega hindbrain. _He's a survivor,_ the hindbrain said. _He'll sire strong pups, and protect his mate ferociously._

Reasoning with his own brain was, fortunately or otherwise, the sort of thing that kept Dorian from making embarrassing confessions. _He's a Qunari: they don't mate, they just rut._ And the Iron Bull was constantly in rut, it seemed: loudly, obnoxiously sexual in a way that Dorian wished he didn't find so attractive. Barmaids giggled and sat in his lap, scouts and soldiers alike came to pay him court, though Dorian noticed the mages usually kept their distance. He tried to take his cue from them, but then he'd be on a mission with Bull and the Inquisitor and Cole, and Bull would say something that dragged Dorian's thoughts into the gutter, and Cole would voice them, and Dorian would be mortified for the next day or so until the cycle repeated.

If only the Bull didn't flirt with him so much. It served mostly as an unpleasant reminder of what he had lost, and he could never overcome the fear of rejection on those grounds, or a night of unpleasantness at the hands of a partner who didn't care enough to learn new tricks.

New tricks - he could have kicked himself for the idiocy. But, then, he’d been rather busy in the intervening time, hardly in the comfortable sort of situation where all one’s basest needs (water, food, shelter...) were met and one could pursue the higher callings (reading, academia, the acquisition of new clothes and other curios).

He needed to go to Val Royeaux, and he needed to be alone in the markets long enough to orient himself, to find the seedy little back room or the cart half-hidden by larger stalls. But given how the Inquisitor seemed to prefer amassing influence by decapitating their way through any and every menace of every backwoods settlement in Ferelden and Orlais, rather than sensibly talking to the right sort of people in the right kind of places - well.

It just meant that Dorian had to ask a little bird for a favor, loath as he was to put himself in the Nightingale’s debt.

There would be no luring her to privacy; Leliana didn’t trust anyone that much, least of all the Inquisitor’s pet ‘Vint, so he’d simply have to wait until the library was abed and most of her assistants were off doing other things.

He ended up napping while he waited, and found he didn’t much mind. Better not to face the Nightingale too exhausted to be wary. He had practiced the words in his head, had fumbled them into an order he didn’t hate, but he knew he would despise the asking. Dorian always hated asking for help, but he saw no other way to expedite the process.

Miraculously, he did not stammer or backtrack, and got the request out in coherent, polite Trade. Well, probably polite. He was never sure what to do with a language that had so few honorifics.

Leliana’s eyes danced, but she did not actually tease him - not about what he wanted, anyway.

“Are you sure it is wise to ask me for such a thing?” was all she cared to ask, apparently.

“I don’t know how much of my past you’ve taken the time to uncover,” he said slowly. “But, if nothing else, you would have heard all manner of words for the things I used to do. Most of them I haven’t the foggiest idea how to translate, not that I have any desire to do so. My father’s personal favorite was _cinaedus_ ,” and even now repeating it made his nostrils flare and his knuckles turn white. “What I am, what I like, that has always been one of my worst-kept secrets. It’s almost a relief, the things speculated of me here in Skyhold. But...you have been discreet with everything else you know about me. Should it benefit someone, I’m sure you’ll remember the information, but…” Dorian shrugged. “I’m also not sure how it would benefit anyone. I can anticipate a lot of tasteless jokes about blood magic and slavery not being kinky enough for me, but, again, where is the benefit? You’re not a kind woman, Sister Leliana, and I’m sure it’s not much of a surprise to hear that. But you aren’t needlessly cruel, either, which puts you one up on many of my countrymen.”

“And are you?” she asked.

“Am I what?”

“Are you needlessly cruel? You always have a sarcastic retort for Mother Giselle, but it’s rarely a denial. The Inquisition provides you with a safe place to antagonize your father from, but what is it you actually want from us?”

Dorian shuddered. “I have a feeling the flippant response I want to give will be...ill-received.”

The smile he received had no warmth in it. “Good instinct.”

“The Venatori are just one colony of fungi on the rotting heart of the Imperium. But right now they are the loudest, and they have spread the farthest to do the most damage to other people. Bad enough to ruin one’s own country, but to go about troubling others…” he tsked. “Now, it’s not just them, of course. Why have one reason when I can have a dozen? The Inquisition is the only organization in Thedas that got off its arse to do something when someone ripped a blighted hole in the sky. Joining cults is the fashionable trend this season among the Alti, but I’ve always hated to be predictable so I picked the cult on the other side. And don’t tell me this is not a cult, because it’s barely two steps removed from one. I’d already been thoroughly cast out by my father, but then I found out you had an opening for mages and it was fate, really. I couldn’t bear Alexius using our work to further destroy the world, especially not in the name of a son who would never thank him for resorting to such measures. Felix is - was - the best friend I ever had and I went haring after him because he had the Blight-sickness and every moment was precious and it wasn’t like I had any other pressing responsibilities once Father - ” he shuddered again.

“I could go on, really, but it boils down to this. The world was going right to shit and it still seemed easier to fix than my personal life.”

Leliana’s smile was much more genuine this time, sympathetic even. “Are you starting to work on that personal life now? Given the closed Breach and the progress in thwarting Corypheus?”

“I fully intend to. Starting with a message to the proprietor of whatever establishment you’re going to recommend.” Dorian beamed at her winningly.

“Of course.” She carefully wrote out a name on a scrap of parchment. “There are postal dispatches to Val Royeaux every other weeks’end. You’re in luck, the next one is in three days, and most shops can fill orders before the returning post is collected by the courier a few days later.”

“I appreciate the information,” Dorian said, bowing his head.

“My pleasure,” she hummed, returning to her work.

Dorian didn’t spend too long fretting over what to get. His knowledge of this sort of sexual aid was rudimentary at best, and he had possibly the most awkward conversation in his life with Sera about the names of such things in Trade. Thankfully that conversation had been several weeks ago, and Sera had brought it up, so Dorian hadn’t completely expired of embarrassment.

When the toy did arrive, he was a little surprised by how small it was. The shop owner had helpfully included a vial of oil, and Dorian needed almost every drop just to stretch himself open enough to slide the thing in, he was that unused to penetration, that unaroused at the thought.

It was...odd. Not painful, he’d been careful enough to avoid that, but definitely...odd. He tried to relax and grow accustomed to the sensation, but he just couldn’t understand what the fuss was about.

Disappointed, he reached behind him and grabbed the base, intending to remove the total waste of money, but then it felt like a spark ran straight up his spine. A good spark. He shifted the toy a little further, mewling when a pleasant warmth spread from his gut.

It hadn’t been so long that he’d forgotten the importance of _friction_ , had it? Apparently so. But now he remembered, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget again. All the boys he’d fucked who had moaned around his cock, and he’d never once thought he might like to try the same, had never let them touch his passage, hardly let them mouth at his entrance, even when he was dripping wet.

Not that any of them had deserved to have him on his knees like this. Not that he could have borne coming apart in such a submissive posture, likely without a touch to his external genitalia. This might be all he could expect to enjoy again, though, given what his father had done. He twisted his hand a little and moaned, then started pumping the toy in and out of his slick hole.

The true test would be if he could reach completion this way. He felt the pleasure build and build, and he touched what remained between his legs, but the longer it took, the more worried and frustrated he became, deadening his arousal.

He forced himself to take his hands away and calm down. Pleasure was good, he reminded himself. Sexual pleasure was more than he thought he’d get ever again. And it was, after all, only his first attempt. Dorian Pavus might have been naturally beautiful and talented and charming, but he had always strived for perfection, and that required practice.

When he felt a bit less discouraged, he started touching himself again, focusing on moving the toy against the little spot that seemed to bring the most pleasure.

It actually took several nights of exhausting plateaus of need, along with entirely too little sleep, before Dorian felt something remotely like an orgasm. A pitiful thing, really, and he only got that much after pressing two of his fingers in alongside the toy. The pleasure peaked and then gradually dissipated in a lingering warmth and lassitude, and Dorian fell asleep before he could take the toy out. He woke up humping the bed from the first sexual dream he’d had since - before he left Tevinter.

After that, he ordered a few more specific toys, the sort with bulging knots and thick shafts. He learned stroking his cock could still ignite arousal, even fan the flames a bit, but he’d chafe himself before he gained any satisfaction that way. Which was a depressing discovery on many levels, and continued to be so even after he healed from said chafing.

He also learned that the Iron Bull could apparently smell sex on him even if he bathed after using his toys, even if he didn’t come at all, even if he was climaxing alone. Dorian wished he could say this was repulsive, annoying, bestial, embarrassing.

What it was instead was arousing.

The Bull would just sniff once, scenting the air. Then he would hone in on Dorian and smile. He would continue to take deep breaths through his nose, and given the chance, he’d sidle close to Dorian, press a fleeting touch to his shoulder, a nudge to his ribs. Sometimes he would murmur, “Smell nice today, big guy. New cologne?” and offer a shit-eating grin when Dorian refused to answer.

Being wanted gave him a surprising amount of comfort. He’d been lusted over in Tevinter, of course, but only in the basest, most furtive of ways, only for the forbidden allure of an omega who refused to bend. More than once he’d ended up fighting boys who disagreed with Dorian’s offerings, who felt he owed them something else, who thought they could master him and take what he didn't want to give.

The Iron Bull didn’t act like that. He was open about his desire for Dorian’s company, and more vocal about it than Dorian could recall him being about anyone or anything else, dragons being the exception. He teased a little, he pushed, but he didn’t try anything more intimate than the odd affectionate touch above the waist or a leering smile. He pursued Dorian, shamelessly but respectfully nonetheless.

Dorian started to lean into those touches, longing for every scrap of affection he could find. He broke a lifetime’s habit of “proper” breathing, and began to scent Bull back, softly and rarely and then more often and more openly.

He took a seat next to Bull whenever it was available. His biting retorts to Bull’s atrocious puns grew fonder. And finally, after what was perhaps a few drinks too many in the tavern, he followed Bull to his rooms and stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment before closing and locking the door behind him.

“I have...terms,” he said nervously.

The Iron Bull’s lips twitched. “Good. I like to know people’s limits in advance.”

“Not - well, yes, that, but - I don’t wish to be...one of your stories. People are going to know we’ve fucked, that’s not what I mean, but they don’t get details. Not about my body, not about anything I do or say - I need to know you can do that.”

Bull worried at his lip a little. “Is this some Tevinter thing?”

“I think it’s actually a pretty basic human thing, but yes, Tevinter has a lot of sexual hangups that I’m not entirely through dealing with. All kinds of assumptions are made about positions and roles and it’s one of the many reasons I left, because what and who you did in bed...or in lieu of a bed...was more important to people than your actions or your character. I’m done with being judged for what I like or don’t like, for what I have or don’t have.”

“I know they’re pretty fucked up about Omegas, but - ”

“There’s...there’s one more thing you should know, and I want you to swear right now that you won’t tell anyone, or I am walking right back out that door,” Dorian said firmly.

The Iron Bull lifted his eyebrows. “Something about your body?”

Dorian only nodded.

“What’s in your trousers is your business, big guy. I promise that no one will hear a word about it from me, nor any details about what we do.”

Dorian smiled a touch bitterly but didn’t elaborate. “What kind of thing did you have in mind?” he asked, easing closer to the bed, stripping off his shirt.

Bull welcomed him with open, greedy arms, pulling Dorian into a warm embrace. “I want to tonguefuck your little hole until you’ve got legs so slick you don’t know what’s you and what’s spit.”

Which would mean the first thing he saw was - well, he had promised, and Dorian had to trust him at some point or he’d never take his pants off and they’d get nowhere.

“You have something else you want?” the Iron Bull asked, seeming to read Dorian’s faltering enthusiasm.

“That sounds good. But you’ll probably need to at least finger me before I can get off. Not sure your tongue will be enough.” He stroked Bull’s cheek, thumbing his lip and smiling faintly when the Bull sucked on the digit.

“My pleasure.”

Dorian took a shaky breath and stood to peel off the rest of his clothes.

From the front, it wasn’t obvious. From the back, it was painfully so, unless Dorian stood with his legs flush against each other. So of course he returned to the bed to lie on his back.

Bull had made a point to undress at the same time, to have his attention elsewhere in the hopes of making Dorian more comfortable, but it meant he took a sharp breath in surprise when he explored Dorian’s groin.

“Go on and ask,” Dorian said tiredly. “But remember that you promised.”

“It’s still your business, Dorian, not mine. Though I’d like to offer bloody vengeance if necessary. Free of charge.”

It was touching, in a violent, savage way. Dorian smiled weakly, stroked Bull’s head and traced his fingertips over the Qunari’s left horn. “Then I’d really rather not talk about it. Not when the evening was just getting good.”

The Iron Bull kissed Dorian’s hip. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. My oath stands.” Then he kissed lower, and lower, between Dorian’s thighs, licking his way to Dorian’s center with an inhumanly thick, inhumanly hot tongue. Dorian moaned, spreading his legs reflexively, and Bull hitched them over his horns and seized Dorian’s buttocks, using his grip to lift the Altus half-off the bed into a better position.

Albeit one where most of Dorian’s blood was starting to pool in his neck and head.

The Iron Bull’s tongue was nothing like a toy. No matter what spells Dorian cast, nothing could give glass or wood that dextrous, perfect heat. In short order, Dorian lost himself to moaning and mewling as his arousal built quickly.

And then he hit the same plateau he always ran into, the point where he could feel a climax so near but just enough distance away he couldn’t quite grasp it. “More!” he gasped out, legs flexing down in an attempt to push Bull deeper. “Need...need more, please, please - “

Bull licked Dorian’s inner thigh and the mage shuddered in pleasure. “How much more, Dorian? You want my knot? Stretching you open, keeping you full...you want that?”

“Yes,” Dorian hissed through clenched teeth. “Stop teasing and do it!”

Ignoring him utterly, the Bull pressed two, then three oil-slicked fingers into Dorian’s hole, pumped his hand with a wet sucking noise that made Dorian flush. No one else had ever touched him like this, no one else had ever made him _feel_ like this, even when he was whole - “Please,” he begged, helpless to do anything else, paralyzed with need, pinned under the Qunari’s bulk.

“Please what~?” Bull teased, licking and nuzzling Dorian’s thigh again, even as he fucked Dorian with most of his hand.

“Please, I need - I need your knot, Bull, fuck me, fuck me _please_ fill me up _now_ -”

“Pushy, pushy,” Bull chuckled, but he slid his fingers free with a wet pop. “You don’t have to hold on with your legs, pretty boy. I’m not gonna drop you, and anyway you’re too high up.”

Dorian eased down carefully, letting Bull catch him, move him into place. Then, suddenly, he was fuller than he’d ever been before, Bull’s cock vastly outclassing even the thickest of the toys Dorian had bought. He panted and mewled and the Iron Bull held him until he calmed down enough to nod, invite Bull in further.

“Please,” Dorian gasped, and inch by torturous inch, the Iron Bull pushed into him, until Dorian thought, a bit hysterically, that he could feel the Bull’s cock all the way up his stomach. It wasn’t, of course, but - it was so deep that he wasn’t sure how, exactly, it all fit.

“You are so fucking tight,” Bull growled, his hands gripping Dorian harder now. “Like a blighted virgin - ”

Dorian flushed.

“ - you have _got_ to be shitting me, ‘Vint. Never? Gorgeous guy like you?” Bull asked incredulously.

“Before - ” Dorian gestured vaguely, meaning to indicate the mutilation of his genitalia - “I always topped, or we’d do...other things. It’s - Tevinter,” he shrugged, giving up on explaining. “Please, Bull, I can still think, fuck me, knot me until I forget how.”

Bull didn't bother acknowledging Dorian's plea, just shifted his hips and started thrusting into Dorian roughly.

Dorian moaned, arching his back and gripping the Iron Bull's waist with his legs.

The Qunari was ruthless, his thrusts unceasing even as Dorian cried out from orgasm. Not that Dorian wanted him to stop. The building knot felt so good and he wasn't even tied yet. He wanted to see this through to its natural end.

"Please," he begged, when Bull paused to glance at him in concern. "Don't stop, please, knot me, fill me with your come, Iron Bull, please!"

Bull's hips jerked involuntarily. "Fuck, big guy, if that's what you want."

All Dorian could manage was a pathetic little mewl, angling up to invite Bull deeper.

“Beautiful,” Bull murmured, pulling Dorian up into a kiss. He managed two more thrusts before the knot was too big to tug free. “Look at you, so perfect for me.” A little roll of his hips and Dorian squirmed with a shocked cry. A load of gloriously hot come flooded his insides.

Except, it felt like Dorian was coming again, already? Some of his confusion must have been visible, because Bull smiled reassuringly.

“Orgasms are very helpful for conception,” he said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “And alphas are very well adapted to give orgasms.”

Dorian made a mental note to take a contraceptive. As long as he got it within a day or two, he should be fine. Of all the racial pairings, Qunari and human were probably the least fertile, so he wasn’t too worried, but...his views on having children had not changed simply because he had been altered. If anything, he was more determined to spite his father by producing no issue.

“We should probably sort out a few things,” Bull hummed, nibbling Dorian’s neck in a terribly distracting way. “Because unless you tell me otherwise I plan to fuck you until you can’t think or talk, so now may be the best chance we’ll have.”

Dorian pulled in a breath, meaning to respond, but all that came out was a moan, and Bull had barely moved a fraction of an inch inside him.

“Okay, none of that, then,” Bull said, going still. “So, how’re you holding up, big guy?”

Dorian whimpered. “Do it again, please?”

“All of it, or the thing just now?”

“The - the thing!” Bull humored him, drawing back only to snap his hips forward, making Dorian cry out. “Yes, fuck me, f-fuck your come into me, Bull please - ”

“I’m serious about the talking, though,” the Iron Bull said, sounding terribly amused by the entire situation.

“Later,” Dorian huffed. “Talk later. Sex now.”

“Bossy,” Bull grinned, but he went along with it anyway, working his hips in tight little circles that made Dorian whine and shiver with the aftershocks of another orgasm, less powerful but flooding all his nerves with pleasure nonetheless.

Bull growled and buried himself deep after a few more moments of this, knot swollen enough that he wasn’t leaving in a hurry. He licked Dorian’s neck and scented him deeply again, almost purring in satisfaction.

Dorian actually fell asleep like that, still tied to Bull and trapped in his arms, and it was the easiest sleep he’d had in more than a year.

When he woke, he was curled up on the Qunari’s enormous chest, rising and falling with every breath, his ear pressed to silver-gray skin. He could hear Bull’s heartbeat and he had no idea why that made him feel so…

Why was he so warm? He’d been cold ever since he reached Orlais, and Fereldan had been, if anything, worse. Skyhold managed to be even more frigid, and Bull’s room didn’t even have an entire ceiling! He’d been chilled last night even during their...activities, but it had been easy to put aside.

It had to be Bull, he reasoned. Despite the quilt draped over them both, Dorian was warmest everywhere he touched Bull. His nostrils flared as he imagined Bull pressing him down into the mattress again, covering him fully, stopping Dorian from moving too much or even breathing too deeply.

“Mmm, well aren’t you a nice sweet thing to wake up to,” Bull murmured. “You want another round, big guy?”

Dorian hesitated only for a moment before swallowing his pride and asking for what he actually wanted.

“I want you to hold me down and fuck me into this mattress.”

Bull grinned. “Sounds good to me.” He rolled them over, scooping up Dorian’s wrists and pinning them over his head as he straddled the mage. “Like this?” He kept his weight off Dorian and left his grip loose enough to shake. Dorian squirmed until he was on his stomach, and then spread his legs, feeling his face heat.

“Oooooh, like _this_ ,” Bull purred, shifting to hold both of Dorian’s wrists in one hand, using the other to stroke Dorian’s back and grab his hip, pull him up just a little.

“‘es,” Dorian mumbled into the pillow.

“Okay then.” Bull slipped a finger in with some difficulty, even though Dorian still felt wet and sore and loose. The Iron Bull’s massive armspan meant he didn’t even lean towards the nightstand to snag the oil back up with his other hand. “Beautiful boy,” he praised Dorian, wiggling his finger back in and adding a second so fast that Dorian hissed at the stretch. “Sorry, sweets. Fuck, you turn me on.” He worked his fingers slower, careful to stretch Dorian thoroughly before pressing on with the third. The fourth had to be a delaying tactic, and Dorian was not interested in that.

“Stop stalling and fuck me,” he huffed impatiently, arching his spine a touch to present his ass to Bull in the traditional manner of wet, needy Omegas everywhere.

“Aw, fuck it,” Bull muttered, mounting Dorian at once. “Bossy little brat - should’ve known - “

“ _Now_ ,” Dorian snapped.

Bull chuckled, jerking his hips. “Of course, princess, whatever you want.” It was nothing like the first time; Bull seemed to have taken careful stock of all the things Dorian liked and didn’t like, and he used the knowledge to devastating effect, dragging Dorian right to the edge of orgasm almost immediately. Then he slowed, kissed Dorian’s neck and gentled his thrusts, and he kept Dorian on that knife-edge of pleasure for what felt like hours.

It was _glorious._ Dorian actually wept a little. When he came on Bull’s knot, it was like his whole body was alight.

“Good boy,” Bull murmured, licking Dorian’s neck as he trembled. “So good.”

Dorian was positively purring beneath Bull, the warm weight of him was that soothing. There was just one thing more, one small thing, but it didn’t feel right to ask The Iron Bull for it - not now. Or, perhaps, not _yet_.

The silence was surprisingly comfortable, and Dorian luxuriated in the full-body contact. This was something else he’d missed, when playing with his toys. Nothing quite replaced the heat of another body in the bed. Still, they had to separate eventually, and Dorian curled up with a pillow, eyeing Bull a bit suspiciously. “You wanted to talk. What about?”

“More terms,” Bull shrugged. “Is this gonna happen again? What do you need from me? If we’re doing this again, then you should have a watchword. I like all kinds of sex, and sometimes people like to say no but mean yes, or to be told not to speak at all.”

Dorian blinked at him. “I’m not averse to more evenings in your bed,” he said mildly. “So long as I am welcome and there are no unannounced guests.”

Bull nodded seriously. He couldn’t watch Dorian the same way, lying on his back so his horns weren’t a nuisance. “And is this just passing time? Most non-Qunari have different ideas about sex, but I’ve found one night is one night pretty universally. Start doing more and feelings get involved.” He said that in the most neutral tone Dorian had ever heard, obviously not trying to indicate a preference or upset Dorian with an assumption.

Except Dorian was very unused to even the mention of “feelings” coming into it. After a pause, he said as much. “In Tevinter, feelings are a weakness. Feeling for a person gives your enemies something to exploit, and feeling too strongly about any kind of politics is likely to get a magister in some kind of hot water. And nothing of consequence was ever permitted between two men...Omega men can mate with Alpha men, of course, but mated Omegas in Tevinter are little better than slaves, and the males are often dressed as, referred to, and renamed as women.” Just another horror he’d faced; that even if he found an Alpha male he actually liked and wanted to marry, they could remake him into a doll, take away every aspect of his identity and replace it with something more palatable.

“But you’re not in Tevinter anymore,” Bull reminded him gently.

“And I don’t have much interest in changing that anytime soon,” Dorian smiled. “At the same time...feelings aren’t really things people control. Suppress or indulge, yes. Acting on them or not is the general quandary, and Tevinter errs on the side of ‘not.’ Yet if you leave me space in your bed, things will change, one way or another. One night I can put aside. More than that and I can’t promise not to get attached.” As if he wasn’t attached already, he scoffed at himself. Bull deserved to know what he was getting into, though.

The Iron Bull drummed his fingers on his chest, inhaled deeply, and exhaled even deeper. “Instincts I’ve barely even heard before are telling me to keep you,” he admitted. “I’ve never done the feelings thing. It may not happen. But I don’t mind trying.”

Dorian hugged the pillow tighter. “I - I’d like that. Trying that,” he admitted shyly. Bull grinned up at his ceiling.

It was a start.


End file.
